


Stood Up

by panda_bear21



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Popstar, Famous Harry, Famous Louis, Fluff, M/M, Popstar Harry, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:56:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_bear21/pseuds/panda_bear21
Summary: Harry Styles is a popstar, the media’s newest sweetheart.  Louis Tomlinson is a fresh out of rehab rock star.  They hadn’t intended to spend the evening together.The media would have a field day when they found out.Prompt: Louis and Harry meet when they both get stood up by their dates at the same restaurant.





	Stood Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PsychoHalo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoHalo/gifts).



> I struggled so much writing this, so I just want to give the biggest shout out to my beta. I would not have been able to finish without you!! Thank you sooo so much!!!!
> 
> To PsychoHalo, I hope you enjoy!

Harry gave a tentative smile to the hostess.  A _very_ tentative smile.  And an awkward, “Hi.”  A long moment passing before he tagged on an ending to that statement, with a rushed, “I’m, umm, supposed to be meeting someone here?”  His smile grew larger, trying to make it a bit more charming. It’s always easier to get what you want when you look charming.

She gave him a happy smile back, clearly not recognizing him.  To his great relief. “Absolutely, do you know what name it is under?”  She glanced momentarily down at her stand, and the writing on it, before looking back up at him, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she glanced across his features.

He hastened his reply, hoping she wouldn’t realize who he was within the time it took her to seat him, “No, sorry…  Though they might not be here yet.”  Unlikely.  Seeing as Harry was already bordering on fifteen minutes late.  He tightened his grip on his phone momentarily, realizing, obviously too late, that he didn’t know who the woman was that he was meeting with, or what name his record company would’ve reserved the table under.  He had half a mind to just leave instead of calling his PR manager and trying to figure it out.  It would’ve been so much easier, and much less painful, to do so.

She looked momentarily unsure, not knowing what to say, before her eyes lit up, looking back at the paper in front of her.  “Oh, I’m sorry, _of course_.  Just this way, Sir.”

He let out a small breath, nodding a bit resignedly before following after her.  They walked through the crowded restaurant, before finally stopping at an occupied table.  Harry’s attention instantly fell on the inhabitant and his brain immediately fizzled into a cloud of smoke, almost causing him to cough up his lungs and choke on a sharp breath.  Louis Tomlinson was sitting leisurely at his table.  Or what was supposed to be his table.

That was not who his PR team had set him up with.

Louis Tomlinson’s eyes were piercing blue.  Dark, hooded.  Just like on his latest album cover, where smoke curled from his lips, and he stared unseeing at the camera.  Harry’s heart kicked up its pace, snapping in his chest, with a continuous knocking that kind of hurt if he really thought about it.  An addicting kind of pain.

Harry stared at him for a few long moments.  Before he blurted, “This isn’t who I’m supposed to be meeting with.”  He turned to address the hostess, but she was no longer standing by his side.  He looked around wildly until he realized that she had probably left to go back to her stand.  And that he was now alone, within five feet of his idol.  Louis Tomlinson.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re not who I’m supposed to be meeting with either.” 

Harry turned his stare on Louis, eyes wide.  His voice was just as raspy as it was in his albums.  Just as light and delicate too, and Harry was surely about to faint.  There was a moment where Louis’ chapped pink lips pressed together, thinning further, before he offered, a sweet if not extremely tempting, “You’re more than welcome to join me instead, if you would like.”

Harry had to physically stop himself from swooning into the seat across from Louis, like a puddle of rainwater.  Instead he sat down like a _normal human being_ , offering Louis his hand.  As well as his finest, most dazzling smile.  It’s always best to go into battle with your shiniest armor.  “Harry Styles.”

Louis grinned back and if Louis’ blade, in their metaphorical battle, was as sharp as his smile then Harry had just lost any fight they were about to partake in.  He was disarmed and lying on the ground, chest bare and ready for whatever punishment Louis deigned to give him.  “Louis Tomlinson.  Though I’m sure you already know that.”  And he didn’t even sound smug saying it.

Harry wasn’t sure if he was being too obvious in his admiration of him, or if Louis really was just that sure Harry would know who he was.  Harry pulled his hand away and tried not to rue the loss of the strong, and yet comforting, warmth Louis’ hand had provided.  Harry’s tone was low, _natural_ , as he asked, “Oh?  Does that mean you know who I am, then?”

Louis nodded, eyes once again trailing down Harry’s torso, as he lilted out an easy, “Of course I do.  Your last single was incredible.”  It had also been about sex.  Like very heavily implied sex.  And Louis was staring at the very low open v of his shirt, unbuttoned as it was.

Harry tried not to blush bright red at that.  Clearing his throat to bring Louis’ attention back up to his face.  “Umm, thank you.  I also am a big fan of your work.”

Harry was also extremely surprised Louis knew about his single.  Sure it played on the radio, repetitively, but most other artists, like the tabloids, seemed to look down on pop stars.  Turned their noses up to their music because it wasn’t ‘real enough’ for them.  Whatever that meant.

But of course Louis Tomlinson wasn’t like that.  He’d had to fight his way kicking and screaming into the rock world when he’d first started out, had been constantly underestimated, was still continuously ridiculed for trying to create new paths in the genre.  He was a lyrical genius, the things he wanted to say sounding through in a light tenor voice, so crystal clear and genuine.  As if he was singing directly to the listener.

Harry could not believe he was sitting across from him.

He’d promised himself he would not freak out though. 

He would make a good impression.  An extremely good impression.

“I thought you weren’t out of rehab, yet?”  His mouth, completely autonomously, blurted. 

His face immediately drained of color.  Fuck.  _Fuck_.  He’d thought his mother had taught him better than that.  He had just shoved his entire foot into his mouth.

Louis took it rather well, all things considered.  Giving a small close-lipped smile and running a hand through his hair, ruffling the soft fringe.  God he was unbelievably attractive.  “Just got out two weeks ago, actually.”  His voice was so succinct, unlike Harry’s, who was too busy chewing his own tongue off to sound so concise.

“I am so sorry for saying that.  I’m really, not usually this rude, I swear.  Or like ever really.  That was just… It just… I am so sorry.”  He was sure his face was a bright red now that it had remembered how to be ashamed.  It only served to make Louis quirk his mouth a little further, his smile only a touch more genuine, as he lifted his brow.

He let out a huff of breath, an easy, “I’ll forgive you.”  And Harry’s heart calmed immediately, throat untightening from where it’d been trying to stifle his word vomit.  He was usually so much more charming than that.  So much better at controlling what he said.

He had to be when the media was constantly clawing at his appearance and scrutinizing his every word.  “If.”  Harry’s brows pinched as Louis continued, “If I can ask you something just as personal.”  He smiled like a wolf, and it did nothing but make Harry’s mouth slacken.  Not enough to leave it wide open, but just enough to part slightly on a breath.

Louis Tomlinson was so frighteningly beautiful.  A tornado spinning through the night sky, lightning, burning trees down in its destruction.  A force to be reckoned with.

Harry nodded.  It was only fair.

“I assume you found out about my rehab through the tabloids, right?”  He paused for a moment, pursing his mouth as he thought.  “Well, _Harry Styles_ ,” his voice mocked, as the name slid off his tongue and against the sharp points of his teeth.  Harry wanted to feel Louis murmur his name like that against his neck, “I heard your dirtiest lyrics all come from personal experience… and that you aren’t interested at all in all of those girls you take home.”

Harry practically swallowed his tongue with the amount of, or rather lack of, movement it had in his mouth, limp like a dead fish.  “I, umm, that… may be true.”  His cheeks must’ve been a bright red again, his heart hammering against his chest.  He mused that it would be a good beat for his next song.  Maybe he would write it about Louis.  Christ knew he’d already written a fair few about what he’d imagined the other singer could do to him.

Louis’ brows went up, mouth pressing together, interested.  “Hmm.  Pop music’s newest sweetheart, huh?”  His lips upturned into a smile again and Harry imagined if they were outside that Louis would have a cigarette curled between his teeth.  “What are you doing here all alone anyways?  Supposed to be meeting someone?”

Harry was very glad for the turn in conversation.  Though he wouldn’t admit that a small, very small, part of him had wanted to continue on that train of questioning.  “Uh, my record company wanted to set me up with a girl...”  He should’ve been more embarrassed by how obvious he was being in front of Louis.  But Louis had literally just called him on the fact that he wasn’t interested in any of the girls he took home.  He’d practically admitted that they had all been fake.

Harry couldn’t actually care, seeing as he had never really slept with the girls his label had set him up with.  They had only been after one thing.  And they really hadn’t been his type anyways.  His type was curvy, blue eyed brunets that really probably weren’t very good for him.  And preferably were males.

Louis seemed amused by Harry’s admittance to his lack of interest in the girls, fingertips trailing the edge of his menu, eyes still glued to Harry’s as he enquired.  “Not your style?”

Harry was saved from blurting out what he’d just thought, about blue eyed males being his style instead, even though he was sure his interest in Louis was evident enough in his expression.

Their waiter stepped up to pour Louis another glass of the wine he’d been drinking, since Louis had been there a little while before Harry had arrived.  Harry looked towards the waiter when he asked him what he wanted to drink, and it was like a cold splash of water compared to the murky fog Louis’ presence seemed to have created in his mind.

Harry stuttered, again.  He really needed to stop doing that.  “Yes, I’ll umm, have,” he glanced at his menu before picking the first alcoholic beverage he could find.  _Needing_ it.  If he were to get through the night with some sense of pride still intact.

The waiter took their orders while he was there, Harry asking for the special of the day, off the fly, since he hadn’t actually managed to look at the menu within the fifteen minutes he’d been sitting there.  He would’ve been self-conscious if Louis didn’t look so amused by his stumbling.  Harry wasn’t naïve enough to not know his awkwardness sometimes worked to his advantage.  As it made him look quite cute.

He didn’t entirely want Louis to think he was ‘cute,’ but he would have to accept it.

“I was supposed to be meeting someone too.”  Louis’ voice interrupted Harry’s internal plans to start acting cool and collected.  He blinked at him for a moment before opening his mouth as well.

“Who?” He was sure he knew already.  Louis’ on again, off again _girlfriend_.  The thought had Harry’s lips almost curling in a scowl.  Everyone in the industry knew their relationship was fake.  That Louis had never been interested in girls either.

Louis leaned back further in his chair, appraising Harry and his apparent knowledge of who it had been, before he was shrugging.  With an air of indifference, “Doesn’t matter.  I’m here with you now.”

Harry stared at him a moment longer, until Louis started smiling and reached out to drag his pointer finger down the middle of Harry’s lower lip, making it pop with the motion.  It seemed he _had_ been scowling.  Louis grinned, eyes focused on his mouth and Harry blushed, like he was trying to mimic a ripe tomato.

He really wanted Louis to touch his mouth again.

“Don’t be irritated.  You know how the industry works.”  His rebuke was light, said with an easy tone.  As if it really _didn’t_ matter, he was so used to it that it wasn’t worth the effort to get upset.

Harry only shoved his lower lip out further, in response, and in hopes that maybe it would make Louis touch it again.  “How can you _not_ be irritated?  Your music would sell phenomenally with or without a ‘girlfriend.’”

Louis’ brow went up at his tone.  “That the only reason you’re mad?”

Harry pressed his mouth together for a long moment, before he was mumbling.  “You should be treated better.”

Both of Louis’ eyebrows rose this time, as he assessed Harry for longer.  His gaze was almost excruciating in its intensity.  Harry wasn’t sure he could breathe beneath it.  He opened his mouth again, “I mean, I, umm, as a fan I think you should be treated better…  I’ve uh, been a fan of yours for a long time.”  He wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed, to be gushing, but it almost felt better to explain himself and where he was coming from.  Being a fan gave Harry a reason to give such grand statements as Louis needing to be treated better; to be so invested.  Being another artist in the industry with no ties to Louis’ management and PR team, did not.

“You too, popstar…”  Louis replied, expression easing into something else entirely.  Though he still looked appraising and curious all the same.

Harry smiled at that, heart fluttering rapidly against his sternum.  Their waiter appeared again in the momentary lapse of conversation and Harry allowed his eyes to skate over to him and away from Louis, who was still staring at him, as if he was trying to figure him out.

They both began to eat, twining noodles around their forks and allowing the silence only a moment to breathe before they were sending it away with question upon question asked to one another.  Harry had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to hear.  He felt as if there might not have been enough time to ask it all.  He just wanted to know so much about the man he had spent way too many years of his teenage life daydreaming about.

Though if Harry were being honest, his eyes seemed much too interested in tracking the movement of Louis’ expressions, and his chest seemed too keen on feeling like a jackhammer was trying to bust it open from the inside, to be anything but a crush that he still had, even years after becoming famous himself.

They ordered a few more drinks, Harry completely drawn in to what Louis said, every story and anecdote he shared.  They spoke about their music, quite a lengthy conversation, and it was almost surreal to be having such a conversation with Louis himself, to hear Louis talking about _his_ stuff.  Harry had always loved talking about his music, but gaining an insight from someone he’d looked up to for so long, hearing his compliments and advice, was an incredible experience.

They talked about the stresses of touring, all of the extraordinary places they had seen on their way, those that seemed to make all of the stresses worth it, the fan projects and fan meetings that also seemed to ease the burden of stardom, and they talked about the drastic transition from utter anonymity to being as famous as they were.  Louis had come from a very similar background as Harry did, one of the things that had first drawn Harry to him.

Harry quickly realized he could ask whatever he wanted, because Louis was being just as personal, was just as curious.  There didn’t seem to be any barriers. Though, Harry had likely already crossed any earlier when he’d callously asked about rehab.  He made sure to stay far away from that topic as they continued to eat and smile and laugh.  Making Louis Tomlinson laugh was probably the best feeling in the world.  Even better than the feeling Harry had gotten from buying his mom a house.  And _that_ had made him so incredibly ecstatic. They really shouldn’t have even been on equal playing grounds, Louis’ laugh and buying his mother a house, but Harry couldn’t really help it, honestly.  The crush he liked to pretend he didn’t still have was festering and blooming and growing even larger with each passing second.

All it had needed was the smallest bit of attention, and Louis didn’t even know he was raining it down on him in droves.  Every time Louis smiled it was like the sun coercing his crush to blossom larger and larger.  If it grew anymore it would’ve been too much to keep hidden in his ribcage, smothering his rapidly beating heart.

The sun peaked when a sly smile worked its way onto Louis’ face and he murmured, “I like music that reveals something about the artist. Though… sometimes,” Louis swept his eyes slowly down Harry’s torso, “it’s enticing to have to imagine what could be lying underneath.”

Harry smiled back and replied with his most alluring response, cheeks heating up even as he teased. “If you ask nicely, you might not have to imagine…”

 They were full on flirting, and Harry would never forget that night for the rest of his life.

It was invigorating, allowing himself to say the things he was, to _Louis Tomlinson_ of all people.  Louis gave back as well as he got.  And in between all of their flirty remarks and suggestive comments, they spoke of their hobbies, their families, and surprisingly even a few of their dreams.

With Harry giving one of his first, as small a dream as it was.  “I’ve always wanted to sing at places like the Masonic, Radio City Music Hall, O2 Apollo Manchester…  Some of my favorite artists have performed at those types of places.”  He continued, quickly explaining, “But they’re at smaller venues, so my team probably wouldn’t agree to it unless I wanted to do a show every day for like two years.”  Harry wouldn’t say he was overworked exactly, he just had a lot of fans.  Which meant he had to perform at bigger arenas.  And he barely had any time as it was in between tours to relax, so moving to more, smaller venues was not something Harry even wanted to bring up.

Louis nodded, tilting his head slightly, “You just finished with a world tour, right?”  He smiled at Harry and Harry’s insides did a little flip.

He was a little surprised that Louis knew that about him, but nodded nonetheless with a returning grin.  “Yeah, it was amazing.  I just… feel like it might be even better standing where my idols have stood.  More intimate.”  He didn’t mean to emphasize the word intimate, or let it roll off his tongue quite like it had, but he enjoyed the way Louis’ brows twitched after he’d said it.  Eyes boring into Harry’s for a long moment before Harry asked, “What about you, Louis?”

Louis paused for a little bit longer, fidgeting slightly with his napkin, before he spoke, slowly as if taking time to make sure he was saying what he really intended to say.  A careful, “I want to help younger musicians break into the industry…  I know it seems strange, maybe, for someone like me to want to do something like that… but well, it’s something I’d like to do.”  He looked down at his plate, pushing his fork mildly with his finger, and it was the first hint of insecurity Harry had seen in Louis all night.  It was shocking to be faced with it straight on.  Something Harry had not been mentally prepared for.

“It’s not weird!”  Harry blurted, in his attempt to reassure.  That expression passed over Louis’ face again, the one he’d had earlier when Harry had told him he deserved better.  It was quicker this time, gone within a moment, before a small warm smile was replacing it.  “It’s amazing, Louis.  You would do a great job at that.”

Louis’ smile grew even more, before he was glancing off to the side.  He opened his mouth as if to say something, when he was looking down towards his pocket instead and pulling out what Harry could only assume was his phone.

Louis glanced down at the screen for half a second, before he was addressing Harry again.  “My friend, Niall, is having a party tonight…”  He only paused a moment, before segueing into the point of his comment, “Would you like to come with me?”

“Yes.  Definitely.”  Harry maybe shouldn’t have sounded so eager.  But he was currently with Louis Tomlinson and having the time of his life.  And if Louis asked Harry to jump off a bridge for him, Harry would do it, no questions asked.  Well, maybe a few, but it would probably end up happening.  Louis, Harry was finding out, could be very persuasive.  He thought it mostly came down to the flutter of his eyelashes and the purse of his mouth.

And after a moment of fully processing what he’d just agreed to, Harry was pretty sure Louis had just invited him to Niall Horan’s house.  The singer, model, and golfer extraordinaire… and one of Louis’ closest friends.  The thought was a little nerve-wracking, but going to a party was the perfect opportunity to extend his and Louis’ time together.

They had finished eating quite a while ago anyways, with neither of them having moved from where they sat and their waiter deciding not to come interrupt them. 

“Let’s get the check then.”  Louis replied, glancing around the area to make eye contact with their waiter.  He offered to pay for Harry’s meal as well as his own and though it wasn’t a date, Harry kind of wanted to pretend it was.

 

When they stepped out of the restaurant, Harry learned that Niall’s house was apparently close enough to walk to.  The proximity and walking distance gave Louis an excuse to pull out a cigarette from his back pocket and light it up.  Smoking it and making Harry almost want to take a puff just to imagine he looked as cool as Louis did.  He wouldn’t of course, and he didn’t take the offer when Louis held out his cigarette to him.  Mostly because imagining putting his mouth to the same place as Louis currently had his was doing fuzzy things to his brain.

Also, his vocal coach would likely be very cross with him if he did.  They walked, and they talked, in between breaths of air, and their tones slipped in and out of suggestion, Louis’ teasing and Harry’s playful, and it all made Harry’s chest beat in tandem with their heavy steps against the street.  Louis would reach out to touch Harry’s cheek and Harry would feel drawn in to the movement, react with a flutter of his lashes and a sweet bite to his lower lip.  He felt light and warm against the soft breeze blowing across his cheeks and behind his ears.

They turned down a few streets and around a few corners, and sure enough behind a gated drive that Louis had to put a code into, sat a large house alight with laughter, muffled music stumbling out of the doors and windows as if it were intoxicated itself.

The inside of the house was just as crowded as Harry had imagined it would be, plenty of drinking and hollering and fun being had by the occupants there.  He and Louis had only taken a few steps in before their host suddenly appeared in a flurry of Irish charm and a bright addictive laugh.  A shout of “Tommo,” leaving his mouth as he pulled Louis into a drunken hug. 

The tips of his hair were dyed blonde and his roots were a very visible brown.  He pulled it off well, just like he had in all of the magazine cover photos Harry had seen him on.  “I’m so glad you could make it.”  He turned to Harry then, with a large smile, “And you brought a guest.”  Niall extended a hand towards him, his grip firm when Harry took it.  “Niall Horan.”

Harry returned the blinding smile he was receiving, replying with his own introduction.  “Harry Styles.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

They spoke for only a little, Niall’s thoughts flitting quickly from random idea to the next and mouth moving fast enough to keep up.  He was hilarious and Harry found he liked him quite a lot.

Right before he was to leave, Niall informed them to, “Make sure you get drinks!  At the house bar.”  He pointed to a long bar covered in an amalgamation of alcohols and crystal glasses.  They didn’t seem to be his finest china, which was good for Harry who really didn’t want to be breaking any of Niall’s most expensive glassware.  Just in case he got a little too drunk that night.

He turned back around but Niall was already gone, swallowed up by the partygoers swamping the room.  Harry caught a flash of Louis’ smile before he was being led further in towards the aforementioned drinks.

Harry looked around to see if there were any faces he recognized amongst the crowd.  There were quite a number of people that looked familiar, having seen them at an after-party somewhere, or while hanging out with a friend of a friend of a singer he knew.  Louis seemed to know almost everyone, shaking hands and giving acknowledgements to people through their entire walk.

Louis’ sister was also there, which shouldn’t have been surprising.  She had gotten a start in the modeling world with her brother’s help, but had quickly garnered a popularity of her own, branching into the world of acting when she’d felt so inclined.  She tended to stick with social media though, and Harry would be a liar if he didn’t also admit he had great respect for her.  She was just as gorgeous as her brother too, white blonde hair dyed immaculately and makeup flawless.

What was surprising was how smoothly and quickly she made her way over to them, kissing Louis on both cheeks, drink already in hand and friends giggling behind her, before turning to Harry with the largest smile on her face.  “Hi, I’m Lottie.  I’m a huge fan, it’s so nice to meet you.”  She glanced over at her brother with her eyes narrowing slightly in bemusement, “My brother didn’t mention he knew you.”

Harry took the opportunity to look over towards Louis too.  Who looked rather smug.  Before he was replying to Lottie with, “It’s, uh, very nice to meet you too.  And we really just met earlier...”

Louis smiled back at her before enunciating a clear, “We had dinner together.”  It sounded as if he were implying something with that statement and Lottie’s eyebrows shot up in response.  Clearly she had gotten the same idea, Harry’s cheeks tinted the lightest pink as he cleared his throat.

Louis turned to him again, indicating their previous direction of travel, “Back to getting drinks?”

Harry nodded, but was unable to go with Louis when Lottie and her friends grabbed him by the arms and absconded with him instead.  Louis watched them drag him away with amusement clear in his eyes.  Harry himself, surprised, listened as Lottie talked at him and pulled him up the stairs and into an occupied bedroom.

The music could still be heard from downstairs and there were already people there, sitting in the corners and in the attached bathroom.  Lottie pulled him over to a few camping chairs that were for some reason already set out to the side of the room.  Her friends left after Harry had been sat down and Lottie used the extra chair across from where she was sitting to put up her heels and lean back in her seat.

She turned to him with a wolfish grin, much like her brothers, and her chin resting against one of her hands.  “So… Harry.  How was your dinner?”

He stared back at her, a little bit bewildered by what had just happened, and how he had ended up where he was with Louis nowhere in sight.  “Oh.  Umm, it was good.”  He could feel his cheeks pinken slightly, under her scrutiny.  It was much better than good in all actuality, it had been perfect.  If it had been a date it would’ve been the best one he’s ever been on. 

He kind of wished it had been a date.

She was grinning still as she said, “Good.”  Her mouth pursed together, “Was Louis a proper gentleman?”

Harry felt like he was being interrogated.  And he almost wanted to just throw his hands up and tell her everything that had happened.  He scratched lightly at the side of his cheek with a sheepish, “Umm, yes, he was.  I had a great time.”  He was suddenly glad her friends reappeared so he wouldn’t just blurt out an inordinate amount of details about how much of a gentleman Louis really had been, and gush for an inappropriately long time.

Her friends had a tub of nail polish with them and Harry was pretty sure every single color imaginable was there.  Like a 152 pack of Crayola crayons.

Lottie’s expression lit up immediately, looking over every bottle and the polish that sparkled up at her.  “Oh my God.”  She turned to him, eyes flashing, “Harry, can I paint your nails?”

Harry wondered momentarily if the nail polish he saw Louis so often wearing in photos was due to his sister’s apparent interest in it.  He bit down on his lower lip before giving a tentative nod. “Sure.”

She beamed at him in thanks before setting out to work, picking out a suitable color and shaking it as well as she could.  She began on his pinky finger, going slow and making it as shiny and glossy as the lip gloss on her mouth.  He looked down to what she was doing as she spoke again.  “So, fun fact.  _Everyone_ in my family is a huge fan of yours.”

Harry squinted his eyes, but she wasn’t focused on him, was just smiling devilishly as she repeated, “Everyone.”  It was then that her eyes flicked up to meet Harry’s momentarily.  Her statement came out slower as if to make sure Harry was understanding each word she was saying.  “Some of us are super into you too.”

At Harry’s confused expression she grinned, “Oh, but not me.  I have a boyfriend.”  She stared deep into his eyes, as she reiterated, “But _everyone_.”  Lottie kept emphasizing that point and Harry felt that there was some kind of message she was clearly trying to convey.  A message that had his heart rate picking back up and his cheeks flushing pink, neck prickling as he thought about what Lottie could be trying to say to him.  Throat growing just the tiniest bit dryer, hoping it was what he was thinking.

That it was Louis she was really talking about.  Being super into him.  Something he’s pretty sure he’s only ever fantasized about during particularly lonely times.

His thoughts were interrupted by that lovely, bright voice once again lighting up his insides, where it came from behind him. “Hi, I want Harry back now.”  Harry glanced over his shoulder, up to Louis who was looking towards his sister.

Lottie was currently painting his middle finger, still on the first hand she’d started with.  “I’m not even done with his nails!”  She didn’t look up as she said so, trying to finish it as quickly and as efficiently as she could, blowing on it afterwards to dry it faster.

Louis shook his head, fondly, before, “It’s _fine_ , Harry can have them finished later.”  He turned his attention to Harry then, giving him a small smile, before gesturing over his shoulder.  “Coming?”

Harry certainly couldn’t say no to that.  He stood up after Lottie let go of his hand, with an accusatory frown at her brother.  Before she was calling out a rather enthusiastic, “Bye Harry!  It was so nice to meet you!  Come around sometime, ‘kay?”  She gave him a little wave before she was reclining back in the camping chair she had deemed as her own and turning to her friends.

Louis handed him a mixed drink that he began to sip at on his way out of the room.  The hall was crowded and Harry stuck close to Louis’ back until they made their way into another spare bedroom.  This one with far less people milling about.  And far less lights turned on, though a lamp or two was lit so that those getting stoned in the corner had something to see by. 

Louis and Harry moved outside to sit alone on the adjacent balcony instead.  The sky surrounding them was intense, dark enough that the lights from inside barely warmed the cold cement beneath them, making it hard to see Louis’ expression and features when Harry turned to look.  They sat against the wall of the house, wine glasses full with drinks that were decidedly not wine on their other sides, and only a few inches separating their legs.  It felt like barely anything at all.

Harry could almost pretend he could feel the heat of Louis’ arm against his own.

He looked over to see Louis pulling out a cigarette, his eyes so clear and sharp and blue.  Bluer than the sky swallowing up their quiet breaths and murmured words.  Their soft smiles.

Louis was giving him one then, a feather light upturn of his bubblegum pink lips, an amused tilt to his brows. “I see you survived my sister.”

Harry nodded, with his own smile.  “I like her.  She’s very… fun.”  That didn’t seem to be the right word for her.  But it would have to do in the moment.  Louis let out a huff of amused breath.  How Harry wished he could be just those few inches closer and feel it against his own mouth.

The three fingers Lottie had painted shined up at him in the moonlight, glossy and a lovely black color, where he looked instead so he wouldn’t do anything stupid like lean even closer to Louis.  His nails were very punk, very rock and roll, and Harry liked them quite a lot.  Louis noticed his gaze, reaching out for his hand to stroke his thumb lightly over the hardened polish, Harry’s fingers resting ever so gently against his palm while he was at it.

The air seemed to grow heavy around them, as Harry sucked in a small breath, Louis moving slightly closer to assess his hand. 

Louis’ hands were small, but wonderful.  Warm and smooth.  “I like them,” Louis murmured before pulling back and slowly letting Harry’s hand go again.  Harry’s fingers curled into his palm, wishing for that lingering touch to have stayed.

Harry nodded and Louis smiled, and they continued to speak softly in the low light, in the cool darkness.  About things Harry didn’t often let off his chest, things he had to be wary of sharing in case someone wanted to tell the tabloids about him.  But for some reason, Harry didn’t feel like he needed to watch what he was saying, or lie to Louis when he was asked questions he would’ve brushed off if it were anyone else.  Harry felt so comfortable beside him, felt so comfortable _with_ him. 

Even with his chest pounding the way it was and his fingers continuously itching to reach over to grab for Louis’ again.

And it seemed Louis felt the same, sharing things with Harry that he never thought he’d hear from him.

The shell Louis seemed to constantly be hiding away in, and the views Harry had had of Louis before he had actually gotten to know him, had slowly begun to chip away throughout the night.  It was as if Harry was finding out who the real Louis was, behind all the carefully constructed walls, and Louis was actually letting him.  Louis Tomlinson was better and far realer of a human being than any of Harry’s fantasies had made him out to be.  And if anything Harry’s crush had only grown more massive, and probably even more obvious.

The hope that it might be somewhat reciprocated had started popping up in his head as well, ever since he had talked with Lottie.  He didn’t want to be disappointed if nothing between him and Louis ended up happening, but he was happy enough to just be spending the evening with him.  He was having an extraordinary time as it was.

A moment of silence passed in between them.  Harry could hear music coming from inside, where a door or a window must’ve been open just the tiniest bit.  He could also hear the sound of the night bugs chirping and buzzing in the grasses and bushes below, and Louis’ quiet even breaths beside him.

Louis had one knee up against his chest, the other one stretched out in front of him, looking out towards the backyard, in between the poles of the balcony fence.  He seemed sullen, thoughtful as he pulled another drag from his cigarette.  His voice was slow, dripped like syrup, when he murmured, “Hey you know how you asked earlier whether I was still supposed to be in rehab?”  Harry turned the focus of his eyes back towards Louis’ face, taking in the soft beautiful features of his profile.  Louis’ mouth opened once more, lips curling like cursive in the night sky, as he blew out a stream of smoke, eyebrows pinching momentarily as he murmured, “That’s all fake.”

Harry continued looking towards him, though Louis kept his focus forward.  He couldn’t quite understand what Louis was saying and the words hung in the air as if waiting for the wind to pick them up and discard them somewhere else.  He kept his voice quiet as well, not wanting to interrupt any of the thoughts Louis was currently having, his brows pinched, a deep exhale making his chest rise and fall in rhythm to his slow blinks.  “What do you mean?”

Louis looked at him then, out of the corner of his eye as he explained.  “I’ve never actually been to rehab...  When I don’t want to do anything and want to get out of the public eye for a bit, well, my management team only agrees to let me as long as they get to tell the media I’ve gone to rehab.  Says it’ll help my image as a ‘hardened rocker.’”  He took another drag of his cigarette, shrugging as if it really didn’t bother him, even though the spark in his eyes told another story.  The downward twist of his mouth.

He turned to look at Harry more fully and offer him a small, self-deprecating smile.  “That’s not to say I haven’t dabbled in some drugs I probably shouldn’t have.  But the rehab part?  That’s bullshit.”  Harry met his gaze and held it, nodding slowly.  The thoughts processed.  He didn’t have the energy to be mad again at the industry or Louis’ management team, like he had earlier.  Not when Louis looked so resigned to it.  Harry knew it would come later, when he would think back to their conversation.  It would infuriate him, everything Louis’ team has put him through.

As it was he continued staring at Louis, something tentative and unsure passing between them.  Louis dragged a hand through his hair, glancing forward again, “I just… didn’t want you to have any wrong assumptions about me.  Or anything.”  He seemed almost sheepish at that admission, his cheeks lighting up the faintest pink across his golden honeyed skin.  Harry could only see it by the burning red at the end of Louis’ cigarette, which he quickly stubbed out beside him.

Harry leaned forward in the next moment, catching the corner of Louis’ mouth in a soft kiss.  The stars burned bright above them, and Louis almost immediately turned to press their mouths together correctly.  To line their lips up in the most perfect way.

A soft exhale of breath passed between them before their lips were meeting again in the dark light.  Louis tasted like bitter smoke and the sweetest alcohol, his mouth soft and so very wonderful.  Unpredictable.  Harry opened up for Louis’ tongue, sharp teeth biting down on his lower lip, a gentle tugging that had Harry losing his breath once again.

He pushed closer, begging Louis’ tongue to run across his again, their mouths to never part.

The door to the balcony was opened suddenly, jarringly, and the voices from inside filtered out, along with two drunken girls stumbling with it to shout off the balcony to those below.

Harry pulled away from Louis, their mouths making a wet sound with the movement.  He stared at him and Louis stared back, blue meeting green in the moonlight.

Louis was the one who spoke first.  A scratchy, quiet, “I’ll take you home.”

Harry nodded pretty immediately and downed the rest of his drink while Louis called up one of his driver’s.  Which was convenient since neither of them was in any state to be driving responsibly.  What with Harry’s heart beating furiously and his eyes unable to detach themselves from Louis’ face and his body and his smile and his everything as they made their way out the front of the house.

Harry was sure he was grinning like an idiot.

 

They were in the car for about five minutes before Louis was telling the driver to stop for a moment, and to wait for them as they exited the vehicle.  Harry turned to him with a confused smile, eyes squinted in curiosity as he asked, “What are we doing?”

Louis only pulled him further away from the car, guiding Harry through the trees that had been on the side of the street and onto a path lit by streetlamps.  They were surrounded by a multitude of flowers and the green grass.  Louis still hadn’t dropped Harry’s hand, and Harry didn’t even care what they were doing anymore.  As long as Louis kept being as close as he was.

Harry turned to Louis when he finally spoke, murmuring a quiet, “I love this park.”  His eyes caught on Harry’s for a moment as he continued with a small shrug, “I used to come here all the time when I was just starting out.”

“Writing music?” Harry asked, looking around and thinking it seemed like a very nice place to work.  A very beautiful place to dream up lyrics and rhythms and melodies.

He nodded, expounding on his question.  “Recording my music and working on writing my first album, yeah.”

Harry glanced back towards the trees and the flower buds surrounding them, with more appreciation for the calm tranquility of the park around them.  The flower buds which must’ve looked glorious in the sun when they were unfolded and out for all to see.

Louis’ hand was hot in his and he grinned at him, with another, “C’mon.”  They jogged a few more steps until they were turning a corner, so Louis could stop them in front of a large fountain, water still rushing up and over its stone.

Louis quickly pulled him to sit down on the smooth stone circling the base of it, letting go of Harry’s hand to run his across the marble, explaining, “I would sit here and write for hours.”

He looked out over the area for a little while, and Harry watched him instead, noting how much younger and freer he seemed being there than he was sure he ever was at any of his meetings.  After another moment he moved to lay down against the stone, and Harry followed suit, turning so their heads were near each other and they could stare up at the sky together.  Pointing out constellations and making up stories for what they thought each were.

It was as Harry was blinking slowly up at the most recent made up constellation that his view was obstructed, Louis peering down at him.  A smile as bright as the stars gleaming down against their skin.  “Hey.  Wanna sing a song for me?”

Harry huffed out a laugh, unsure if Louis was teasing him or not, his lips holding their characteristic smirk that had Harry squinting suspiciously up at him. “Right now?”

Louis nodded, with a breath and a small laugh, “Yeah.”

Harry stared up at him for another moment, with his own impossibly fond smile, before he began to sing the lyrics to one of his own songs.  One he had written before he’d become famous, about someone with the prettiest of blue eyes and a smile that spoke like a dare and sounded like a promise.  The song might’ve been inspired by a younger Louis Tomlinson, and Harry’s massive crush on the rock star, but he would not be admitting that out loud to anyone anytime soon.

He hadn’t even finished the first chorus before Louis’ mouth was cutting his words off, kissing him upside down as if he were Spiderman, who Harry had learned at dinner was Louis’ favorite superhero.

Harry grinned into it, before he was whispering into the small space Louis gave him, a conspiratorial and rather giddy, “Louis, we’re right outside.  Anyone could see us.”  He wasn’t sure he really cared if someone did, but he felt scandalous getting to kiss Louis again and his heart was thrumming much too quickly.  His mouth tingling from where Louis’ had just been.

Louis let out a huff of amusement, tilting his head up to look around, even as he said, “It’s one in the morning, no one is out...”  His voice was just as quiet as a whisper, as he tacked on a rather adamant, “and I can kiss you where I want.”  Harry really had no problems with that, letting Louis line their mouths up once again, before Harry was pushing up on his elbows and turning so he could try to kiss him properly, doing his best to not to break their mouths apart the entire time.  Though their matching smiles made the process a little harder.

Harry tangled his fingers in the strands of hair by the side of Louis’ head when he was facing him correctly, trying to sit up even more so the angle wouldn’t strain his neck.  Louis’ mouth was indescribable.  The way he let his tongue slip out to lick against the seam of Harry’s lips had Harry’s mind buzzing harder than any amount of alcohol ever could.  Louis was playful and the sound he made when their tongues met was dangerous.  Harry fell into it, melted like soft candy, pulling Louis even closer and shifting to get even more into his space, making a quiet sound of his own.

Their kiss ended rather abruptly when Harry fell backwards, slipping into the cold water of the fountain, immediately soaking his lower half and staring, stunned, back up at Louis.  Expensive shoes drenched in the water.  He was so shocked and confused he couldn’t help but let out a small huff of laughter when Louis burst out into it, amusement bright and loud in the quiet park.  Like a beautiful melody of its own.

Harry yanked at Louis’ wrist to pull him into the fountain a moment later.

And then he was spluttering as well, that magnificent grin a permanent fixture on his face.

Until he was kissing Harry again, wet palms reaching up to cradle his face and hold him steady.

If Harry hadn’t been so focused on Louis’ sinful movements and his experienced mouth, he would’ve realized how close he was to the center of the fountain, Louis keeping him pressed back against the stone so he could settle in between his legs and kiss him just that much harder.  A small smile, and a sweet, quiet, “Harry Styles…” hummed against his lips, breaths light and like a punctuation in between them.

Harry kissed him ten times more, murmuring his own quiet, “Louis Tomlinson…”  He was smiling, a dimple in his cheek as his hands settled on the wet fabric at Louis’ waist, Louis almost shivering at the touch.  Though he seemed to be trying to cover that up, pulling back to meet Harry’s eyes instead.

He was silent only a moment.  Before asking, “Come home with me?”

Harry bit down on his lower lip, to stop his smile from overtaking his entire face.  His voice a whisper as he murmured, “What would the tabloids say?”

Louis grinned back, giving him another kiss and murmuring against his mouth.  “I guess there’s only one way to find out...”

Harry pressed closer again, their mouths fitting together like Harry had always dreamed they would, tugging on Louis’ hand after, to pull him up from the water so they could wade their way back towards the pavement.  He was wet and dripping and he didn’t care what the tabloids would say about them the next day.  Or anytime in the future if they ever found out.  God, he really didn’t care.  Because he currently had Louis Tomlinson’s hand in his, and a finger in his belt loop, pulling him to a stop so that Louis could meet his mouth again, in a longer kiss, drawn out and slow and shiver inducing and perfect.

Louis dropped Harry’s hand, to place a palm at his chest instead, and he smiled, that devastating smile, that mischievous grin, before running off in the direction that they had come, yelling behind him.  “First one to the car gets their cock sucked first.”

And Harry ran after him with a loud laugh bubbling up from his chest.


End file.
